Language ESQ - Smith (Leon Garfield) PDF
Language ESQ - Smith (Leon Garfield) PDF
Exam Practice 1
CHAPTER 1
He was called Smith and was twelve years old. Which, in itself, was a marvel; for it seemed
as if the smallpox, the consumption, brain-fever, and gaol-fever and even the hangman’s rope
had given him a wide berth for fear of catching something. Or else they weren’t quick
enough. Smith had a turn of speed that was remarkable, and a neatness in nipping down an
alley or vanishing in a court that had to be seen to be believed. Not that it was often seen, for
Smith was rather a sooty spirit of the violent and ramshackle Town, and inhabited the
tumbledown mazes about fat St Paul’s like the subtle air itself. A rat was like a snail beside
Smith, and the most his thousand victims ever got of him was the powerful whiff of his
passing and a cold draught in their dexterously emptied pockets.
Only the sanctimonious birds that perched on the church’s dome ever saw Smith’s progress
entire, and as their beady eyes followed him, they chattered savagely, ‘Pick-pocket! Pick-
pocket! Jug him! Jug- jug- jug him!’ as if they’d been appointed by the Town to save it from
such as Smith. His favourite spot was Ludgate Hill, where the world’s coaches, chairs and
curricles were met and locked, from morning to night, in horrible confusion. And here, in one
or other of the ancient doorways, he leaned and grinned while the shouting and cursing and
scraping and raging went endlessly, hopelessly on – till, sooner or later, something
prosperous would come his way.
At about half past ten of a cold December morning an old gentlemen got furiously out of his
carriage, in which he’d been trapped for an hour, shook his red fist at his helpless coachman
and the roaring but motionless world, and began to stump up Ludgate Hill. ‘Pick-pocket!
Pick- pocket!’ shrieked the cathedral birds in a fury.
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